


Long Live The King

by Zugzwang (thunderdone)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Achievement Hunter Kings, Gen, Mad King Ryan, Magic, Wizard!Michael, demon!Geoff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-15 23:01:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3465245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderdone/pseuds/Zugzwang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Geoff is a demon, a familiar to the sorcerer Michael, and it's all in a day's work when hey prepare to overthrow a king.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Live The King

**Author's Note:**

> This was planned to be a fic where a familiar falls in love with their sorcerer master, but you know what? I had fun writing a death scene.

"Veni, inquit, mali nescia virtus Stare loco, quem suscitavit a mortuis suscitare facere iussus est, ut homo, teque semel peractum est. Sine me, et dabo tibi com coelum ascensionem." The chant was low, mainly guttural as the sorcerer chanted in Latin, holding his hands over the purple embers pulsing a few meters away. Flames were rising from them, a multitude of colors swirling around as he began to summon the demon. 

He began to circle the rising flames of the pentagram, a smirk growing on his face as dust begins to rise from the floor. He flicks away some of his red curls, which had begun to hang down in front of his eyes. He didn't want to miss a second of his first successful summoning. Magic particles floated around his hands as his excitement rose, a column of green flames erupting from the middle pentagon of the circled star. 

After a minute of wordless waiting, the only sound the crackling of the green flames, they died down, revealing a demon in human form. His heavily tattooed arms were folded around his chest as he glared at the wizard, scoffing softly. His handlebar mustache twitched a little as he sniffed the air, red eyes darting around the small, cramped room. He looked down to the pentagram once again, sighing quietly to himself as he looked, once again, to the wizard. He ran a hand through his hair, in between the smaller horns. 

The sorcerer grins, stepping forwards to break the circle of ash around the demon. "State your name, demon." He folds his hand behind his back, bouncing onto the balls of his bare feet triumphantly, flicking his amber robe away from his hands as he stares at the demon. 

"Fuck off! Send me back to hell, dickbag!" The sorcerer was taken aback by this sudden outburst from the demon, glaring at it from the sidelines. His hands began to give off small ominous, grey sparks as he growled lowly at the demon. The demon smirks, condescending towards the young mage's efforts to control him. 

"I believe this place may serve as a living hell for you soon enough, don't worry your horns off, you slimy bastard. Now, do as I said, and state your name. Dolor." A sharp spurt of pain spread up through the demon's back, and down through his calves, sending him to the ground, kneeling before the wizard. "State your fucking name. That was only a warning shot."

It's the demon's turn to scowl, glaring up at Michael menacingly. "Geoff Ramsey. Personal mercenary for the devil himself, so I suggest you watch the way you act before your lungs get put where your bladder is." The mage nods a bit as he breaks the pentagram, kicking away the coals as he began to clean up the area of the spell. 

"Michael Vincent Jones. Most know me as Mogar. So, how long are you gonna be here, just until my use for you has run out? What's the deal there. Kdin, I mean Fuggs, never taught me that." He tosses a few dried roots into a bucket off the side of the table, along with some scraps of metal. The sorcerer, once again, flicked his curly hair out of his eyes with a slight bit of annoyance. 

Geoff walks over to flick through a few of the books he had left out on the counter, looking at the spells. "Depends. I have to rank a minimum of three on this complicated chart thing you honestly wouldn't give two shits about. It basically has to add up to the evil of three maims. Or two kills. Or one capture and torture, but letting the person go after a while." He opens a second book, reading one of the bookmarked pages. "Revenge and love on your mind much? Dangerous mix you got going there."

Michael slams the book on his fingers, glaring at him unblinkingly. "Look, don't snoop in my shit, okay? I respect your privacy if you stay the fuck away from my own." He begins to set the books on the shelves again, leaving a few spell-books out for reference, as well as a long, but tightly wrapped, scroll. "I just need some help with two things, and then you can get your ass back to hell or whatever." 

The demon holds his hands up defensively, shrugging a bit. "Alright, alright. But why can't you do this shit alone? I mean, it's not like you're helpless or anything. Not like you need the money, obviously." He nods to the Michael's robes, that may have been think but we're nevertheless strong, and seemingly flame resistant. 

"I mean, you live in a damn good house too, even if it is a bit small. The fireplace and secret trap doors- quit looking so stupefied, they're obvious to demons." He gestures to a small trapdoor on the threshold, as well as to a book case that looked normal enough. The wizard had spluttered for a moment as the traps were mentioned. "So why on earth do you need me? If you're thinking I'm gonna act as your slave or some sick shit I swear-"

"God, shut your mouth! Just get some fucking sleep and I'll tell you in the morning! I'm tired, damn it!" Michael puts his hands up, walking into the doorway of his room. "Look, I made you a bed and shit, if you want food there's some in the cabinets above the stove. Just let me get some rest, I'm exhausted." He sighs as he slips his main robe off, tossing it onto another desk inside the room.

The demon nods a bit, looking over at the bed in the corner of the house, fear away from Michael's room and sat beside the stove. He glances back to Michael, who had ran his hands through his hair, mumbling a spell to organize the papers scattered around his own room, stacking them onto a desk in the opposite corner of a wardrobe. Geoff walks over and sits down on the bed, staring around the room before allowing himself to fall asleep. 

Over the course of the next week or so, their main heist was planned, down to the second in some cases, and the alliance between Mogar and Corpirate grew with knowledge of one another. But everything changed when the fire nation attacked. Metaphorically. It was subtle, at first, the odd feeling that began to settle in the sorcerer's stomach when they talked, or when the demon laughed. Either way, as the weeks passed and the final preparations were put into place, Michael found himself to be a happier, overall, person with the company of the demon. 

The day of the attack came, the attack on the cruel king with an unjust reign over the region. 

Geoff slipped into the barracks in the early hours of the morn, disguised as a morning dove at Michael's request. He flew to one of the top hammocks, holding the court jester by the name of Gavin Free inside it. The demon hopped up to his chin, still in dove form as he put the spell patch gripped tightly in his beak on the man's neck. He put one of his hooked feet on his upper collarbone, and as jester Gavin transfor med and awoke in the form of a morning dove, Geoff too transformed, taking the form of the younger man. 

Gavin was left in the barracks, as Geoff slipped out them to walk to the kitchens. They had planned it this way, as to not arise much suspicion, what with Gavin being a twitchy twit and all, and if he was noticed wandering the halls,nobody would find it strange, because it's only Gavin. Dumb old Gavin with his absurd sense of humor, which was partially shared by the king. Once Geoff had successfully made his way through the maze of corridors to the kitchen, he walked to the back corner to open the door to the barnyard. He gave a soft whistle, as Michael transformed from one of the pigs, back into his own body 

They then made their way to the only room the King was ever known to be in, the throne room. Michael led he demon up a spiraling set of staircases to the front wooden doors, before allowing himself to have his hands tied behind his back. At a shared nod, Geoff burst in, dragging Michael behind him quickly. "Sir!" He chirped in Gavin's voice, keeping the skin on as he pretended to catch his breath. "I found a bloke in the kitchen! He's not one of us!"

The king was standing beside a tall window, flooded in moonlight with his hands folded behind his back, his blood-red robe running behind him for a meter or so, lined in a fox's fur. The man turned, gilded crown glittering in the soft bath of the moon's glow, raising a hand to straighten his tie as he met Geoff's, or Gavin's skin's eyes with an eerie smirk. He stepped towards them, lowering his hand from his collar to the handle of his hunting knife. The Mad King hummed quietly as he stepped forward to stare at Michael, running the unsharpened edge of the blade along his collarbone, getting a shiver from the wizard. 

"Gavin, check his arms for clan marks," Ryan muttered, pulling up one of Michael's sleeves carefully, twisting his wrist around to look at him,"He could be a wizard." With a smirk, Geoff transformed back into his own preferred skin, as Michael let off a small burst of energy to throw the king a few feet away. Spots of magic began to glow around his hands as Geoff stepped forwards with his own knife, preparing to fight. 

The king caught his footing quickly, crouching slightly in a defensive position and spinning his weapon to a better grip in his hand with a smirk. "Well well, then, a wizard and a familiar, how fascinating." He blocked Geoff's first attack, slowly grinding the metal blades together to earn a terrible screech. Michael began to follow their fight, as the two stepped on one another's toes to clash, lending his strength to Geoff in bursts of magic. But the Mad King was a skilled fighter, who earned his way to the throne that way. 

"You know, you look familiar, Geoffrey. I seem to recall your face," Ryan taunted as he stepped in a bit closer, trying to knock the demon's legs out from under him as he ducked a stab. "We're you not one of the first kings?" Stab. Dodge. Curse. "Ah, yes, you-" There was a soft grunt of pain which interrupted Ryan as Geoff pushed him away once again. "-I remember killing that friend of yours. What's his name? Jack?" He let out a laugh, his guard slipping for a moment which allowed Geoff to get in a strike across his cheek. 

Geoff growled lowly, flames flickering up and down his inked arms as he met blades once again with Ryan. "You son of a bitch," he muttered as he let his swings and blows fall more readily, finally getting in a good hit to the King's stomach, making him bend over, trying to retrieve his breath from where it sat, blown out of him, on the ground. Geoff raised his knife in both hands, quickly bringing it down into the king's back. As Ryan let out a low groan, blood beginning to pour from his mouth like an unsaid apology, Geoff raises it again, driving it through the back of the King's neck. 

The blade caught Ryan from falling face first into the floor, the tip holding him centimeters from it, as a low gargling noise hung in the air for a few seconds before he died. The crimson of his blood stained the knife's handle, and thus Geoff's hand as he took it out, a set of sickening squelches and cracks emanating from the body as he tore it out with a sigh. With distain, the demon cleaned it on the back of the king's robe before sheathing it. 

Off to the side, the wizard pauses to catch his breath. "Shit," he mutters quietly as he begins to gather the strength he hadn't given to Geoff. He walks forward with a crooked, half smile on his face. "We did it, good job, Geoff." The demon nods in response, stretching out his sore limbs. "We should make Gavin the new king," Michael mutters as he picks the crown up from the floor, twirling it in his fingers before glancing up at Geoff. "What do you think?"

Geoff shrugs a bit. "Good, I guess. I mean, we did kind of steal his body and use him, more or less. He's a good kid, anyways. So why not, he's got his whole life ahead of him." Michael nods, accompanying Geoff to the barracks to fetch Gavin. And that was precisely what happened. Gavin became king, and appointed Michael his advisor. Geoff stayed, his full contract incomplete, but he didn't really mind. He enjoyed castle life, and those around him.

Years later he would admit it was one shitty plan, but man, it was fun.


End file.
